


This isn't How it's Meant to Be

by JantoJones



Series: Brief Briefings [27]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 00:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8512510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: Things don't always go as expected.





	

Colin Robertson had made it to the age of forty. It was the golden number which retired him from Section 2 field duty, to a much safer life as a desk jockey. He was going to spend the rest of his career happily working in cryptology. At least, that was what was meant to have happened. Instead, Colin was lying in his casket in the small chapel within U.N.C.L.E. headquarters.

The funeral was over, and all those who had attended had gone back to their own duties. Only two remained.

"He'd only been out of the field for two days," Napoleon commented, needlessly.

"I know, my friend," Illya replied. "He told me a few days ago he was looking forward to finally getting a chance to seek out a wife."

"I could accept this more easily if it had been work related," Solo continued. "When an agent dies, it's supposed to be in the line of duty. After everything Colin survived, to be killed like that is ignominious"

It had been a drunk driver. Colin had been walking along the street between the grocery store and his apartment, when a car had mounted onto the sidewalk. Two other people were hurt, but he had been killed outright. Of course, the driver had completely escaped injury.

Had Colin had any next of kin, his body would have been handed to them; the nature of his death had meant there was nothing to cover-up. Unfortunately, he'd lost both his parents, and had no aunts, uncles, or siblings. So, it had fallen to U.N.C.L.E. to provide a fitting funeral.

"How would you like to go, Tovarisch?"

Illya gave his partner a quizzical look.

"I know today is a dark one, but that is a morbid question. I thought I was meant to be the fatalist."

Solo shrugged. "I'm in that sort of mood today."

"I am not going to answer your question, Napoleon. We already spend too much time in death's company."

"You're absolutely right, chum," the CEA agreed. "Come on, back to the office. We'll have a drink, and raise a toast to Colin Robertson.


End file.
